Last Tuesday Andrew called to say he wanted to go to the beach on his off days.
And I was all, "eeehhhh, we just got home from the beach and shouldn't I stay home for at least one month in between vacations?"
I mean really, it's getting a tad bit gluttonous.
But you know what?
Life is short. Really short.
And work schedules are crazy and my kids are growing up way to fast and my son has a sick, unpredictable heart. I want to go on long road trips just for the heck of it. I want to skip naps and get my hands dirty (not really, I hate dirty hands). I want to work hard when it's time to work and than play just as hard when it's time to play. I want to live my life really, really well.
So we scoured Priceline for a good deal, threw together a cooler full of food and a duffle bag full of clothes, and hopped in the car. After six hours of excellent, nearly uninterrupted conversation, we landed in Myrtle Beach at the Ocean Reef Resort.
We labeled it a Mother's Day Trip, a little reward for all the nearly single parenting I've done this past year, but it was really just as much for Andrew and the kids. They missed each other. We had the best time. Skipping naps and getting our hands metaphorically dirty.
Living. For real.